Out of Sight
by PiscesChikk
Summary: A meeting with John Reese at a hotel bar has Joss Carter contemplating what life would be like if she had met him under different circumstances. Loosely based on the movie starring Jennifer Lopez and George Clooney.
1. Chapter 1

A/N ~ Story is based on a scene from the movie Out of Sight. This hasn't been beta'd, so excuse the errors. Hope you enjoy!

I do not own Person of Interest or any of their characters.

* * *

Carter looked outside at the street below. She was seated in Shivers, the bar located in the hotel she'd checked into just this morning. Raindrops started to pelt against the thick glass and caught her attention. It was a gloomy night; the streets were dark, crowded, and everyone seemed restless. Their mood reflected her own.

 _What if?_

The question plagued her again tonight, just as it had over the last six months.

 _What if?_ she wondered, thinking of _him_. Of John Reese.

What if they'd met at a different time? In a different place and under much different circumstances?

 _What if?_

What if she wasn't chasing the Man In A Suit? What if she hadn't been assigned to the FBI task force under Special Agent Nicholas Donnelly to catch him? What if she didn't have to arrest him on sight for previous crimes he'd been implicated in and was most likely guilty of?

Just…what if?

Since the day they'd met in a New York precinct they'd played a lovely game of cat and mouse. She'd get ever so close to him, only to have him slip through her fingers time and time again. He'd even saved her life a few times. She'd been lucky he was around to save the day. She'd even spoken to him on the phone, told him how much she appreciated how him being there when she needed him. The sound of his voice on the other line was deep, sultry; his timbre almost like a lullaby for her soul.

 _He'd flirted with me_ , she thought with a smile.

She stared at a billboard and shook her head thinking of how he'd teased her, told her she was sexy, and that he'd wanted to kiss her. Of course she'd had to pretend that she wasn't affected. Had to pretend that she was immune to how he'd practically made love to her with his voice. Had to ignore how his words felt like sensual touches on her skin. She'd closed her legs and clenched at the thought of his hands and lips in intimate places.

She thought back to the twenty minute ride in the back trunk of his associate's car and how it had provided a small reprieve from the push and pull of their unique relationship. It was an opportunity for them to slow down for a bit and talk to each other. Another situation of the illegal kind had put him directly in her sights again. She'd caught up with him, was about to read him his rights when he'd disarmed her and pulled her into the trunk with him right before his partner with the wire framed glasses drove off. Instead of convincing her to call off her investigation into his past and find out who she really was, he spent the whole time asking her questions.

What was her favourite movie? What did she like to do for fun? How would she describe her perfect date? In hindsight, she knew she should have been scared for her life. He and his partner could've been taking her for the last ride of her life, but something told her that they weren't.

So, she let him in. For twenty minutes she pulled back the curtain on Joss Cater and revealed the woman behind the badge.

And for a brief moment, she had gotten to know John.

He'd mentioned a few details from his time in the military and spoke fondly of an old girlfriend named Jessica. But while her head rested on his chest and his hand stayed perched atop her thigh…it had felt like they were the only two people in the world.

She'd felt like they'd reached a point of intimacy, a fact that had shocked her to her core, and when the car had come to a stop not two blocks from her house before driving away, she realized she'd already missed it. Her walk home was filled with thoughts of his eyes, his voice, his hands, and nothing else. The case was a distant memory for the rest of the evening.

 _What if?_

After a fifteen minute wait, her waitress finally returned with her drink. She was the only server on tonight, so Carter simply said thanks the plucky blonde and tamped down her impatience. Bourbon wasn't her usual choice of alcohol, but she wanted something strong and smooth. She took a sip, then rested the glass down in front of her. It was only eight 'o clock, and she'd felt as if this day had already gone on forever.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

She was about to decline the offer, when she recognized the voice behind her. She'd know it anywhere, anyplace, any time. A slow smile spread across her face as he rounded the table and faced her. She took in the sight of him, eyed him up and down and felt butterflies in her stomach. He looked tall, handsome, and so damn sexy.

She stared down at her almost untouched glass of bourbon in front of her and bit her bottom lip. "Yeah, I'd love one."

"May I sit?" he asked, wearing a sly smile. She wanted to knock that damn smirk off his face, but she smiled back instead.

"Sure," she replied.

She studied the lines of his face when he sat down, the straight nose, blue eyes that in this light seemed a sea green, and then his mouth. If Donnelly walked in and caught them right now she'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. She didn't want to think about the case though. She didn't want to think about how she should be hauling his ass away in handcuffs. She didn't want to remember who either of them was right now.

She just wanted her _what if_. Just for a moment. Maybe…just for tonight.

"I'm Richard," he said. The look in his eye, the tease. It was an invitation. He wanted the what if, too.

"I'm Cecile."

He looked around for the waitress, tried signaling to her, but failed to get her attention.

"It takes a while to get a drink around here," she said. "There's only one server."

He noticed the group of guys at the bar who'd been ogling her since she first sat down. Their disapproval was evident. "They bothering you?"

"Not so much I can't handle it."

"Maybe we should leave," he suggested.

"No," she said. "We just got here." She pushed her glass across the table. "Help yourself."

He put the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. "You like bourbon?"

"I love it," she lied.

He leaned in as the glass hit the table and grinned. "What do you do for a living Cecile?"

She leaned in too, enjoying the tiny flirtation. "I'm a sales rep. I was supposed to meet a client tonight, but…he didn't show."

"I'm positive it was his loss."

She felt warm as his eyes swept over her, twiddled her fingers together under the table. There was heat between them. It was potent, so tangible that she felt like she was wrapped up in it.

Outside the rain was turning into snow, the harsh sound of the raindrops turning into something softer, cozier.

"It definitely was," she said softly.

"I like your hair."

She could smell his cologne. It was woodsy, earthy. She liked it. "Thanks."

"I like it a lot. I like your outfit, too."

She grinned again, idly looking down at the form fitting skirt that hugged her curves in the right places. He wouldn't know that just by looking at her across the table, however. The cashmere turtle neck she wore over it was stylish, but also protected against the cold.

"How long have you been in the sales industry?" he asked.

"Not long."

"Do you like it?"

"I like it. I'm not sure it likes me. It's a male dominated field most of the time. Not sure how far I can go. I do get to meet some really interesting people sometimes. Some more than others."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself. I think you could go very far."

She cocked her head to the side, watched him as he watched her. "I'm wondering how far I can go tonight."

He blushed, and she could barely believe it. Her eyes fell to his lips. He was smirking again. She wanted to kiss him. So bad. "So Richard…what do you do for a living?"

"So where do you want to take this, Joss?" he asked, dropping the charade.

He was trying to bring them back to reality, but she wasn't sure she wanted to just yet. "No, don't do that, " she said. "Not yet."

She wanted to stay in this moment a little bit longer. If they could continue to pretend they were strangers, maybe the illusion could work for tonight. Maybe the reality of who they really were could be forgotten if they pretended that reality simply didn't exist.

"Maybe that could work for somebody else. Not for us Joss."

He knew what she wanted. Knew she wanted the fantasy, but perhaps, the reality of what was behind his eyes was worth exploring more.

"I've never played this game before," she started.

"It's not a game."

"Isn't it?"

"Not to me, Joss. I'm not playing."

Reese had made it a point to be playful when he sought her out; he wanted to keep the mood light. He introduced himself as 'Richard' because he wanted a do over. He had wanted to free their second meeting of the excess baggage that had attached itself to the first one. He wanted to give that to her, help her be comfortable, but he also wanted her to know that while he had been playful, he was very serious when it came to how he felt about her.

"It's like meeting someone for the first time. You see them when you're walking down the street. There's just something about them that catches your eye. And long after you're gone, you start to wonder what if. Did I miss my chance? Why didn't I stop and said something? I don't want to think about the two of us Joss, years down the road and wonder why we let this chance pass us by. I don't want to wonder about how we could've been together."

She looked thoughtful. He knew what he was saying was daunting, terrifying for her because of who she was, but she didn't look away or back down. It gave him a glimmer of hope.

"How many times do people get a chance like that?" he asked. "It may only have happened a few times in your life."

She focused on his shoulder for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Or once."

He met her honesty with a little of his own and nodded. "Or once."

She slid the glass towards him again, and he took another drink. It felt warm as it went down, a comfortable balance to the chill that started to creep through the glass next to them. He slid it back to her and she put a hand over his before he could let go.

Seconds felt like hours as she looked deep into his eyes. Their souls seemed to reach an understanding of what they were feeling and what they were about to do. The feel of her fingers as they slid away to grip the glass and take a drink herself, sliced through him. He wanted her. So badly. Needed her. So much.

She toyed with a tendril of hair that fell over her face, tucked it behind her ear, but when she bent her head it came loose again. She was frustrated with it, but he leaned in closer, tucked it behind her ear himself. He raised her chin to look him square in the eye and she put a hand over his wrist. He held her hand for a while, and they sat in silence. He wondered if she'd say something, do something, but he had to wait for her, had to pause for her cue. She was the one with the most to lose.

"Let's get out of here," she said softly and got up from the table.

He followed, finally seeing the way her hips swayed in her skirt. "Yeah."


	2. Chapter 2

The elevator ride up to her suite was short. Reese stood close to Carter's side feeling very aware of her and what she was making him feel. He enjoyed the lingering fragrance of her perfume, how her clothes fit her body. He memorized the way she walked and moved. Words failed him when her butt brushed against his hip as she pressed the digits for her floor. He told himself to calm down, told himself to breathe and be patient.

He'd always been so good at compartmentalizing things. Habit had helped him keep his work separate from his personal life. It was a routine that was second nature, but she came along and had done a good job of filling both spaces. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He had most definitely tried, but she wasn't somebody who was easily forgotten.

They walked off the elevator and down the corridor to her room. The brief moment she had touched his hand at the table was responsible for the heat growing in his body. He couldn't resist touching her again; his fingers found her wrist as she lifted the key and slid it through the lock. Her head turned toward him at her back as she pushed the door open. She took his hand, twined their fingers together and led him inside.

He took a glance over the room, noticing the bed, the bar to the far left that seemed fully stocked, and the flat screen on the wall. He wondered idly who was footing the bill. Since she'd been temporarily assigned to the FBI's task force, he guessed it must be the bureau. He couldn't see her precinct setting her up in a hotel as expensive as this one.

The snow was steadily falling now. The light flurry had given way to a moderate dusting. Pretty soon, it would fall in sheets and blanket the ground. The heat from the room surrounded them, providing a warm cocoon from the cold outside.

"How'd you find me?" she asked, facing him.

His lips curled into a smile remembering his request to Finch and the confused look on his face. His boss couldn't imagine why he'd want to chase after the detective who had been pursuing him for months. To him, it was only logical that he would run in the _opposite_ direction. But he'd acquiesced, tracked down her location, and here he was.

"I have some very resourceful friends that can get me important information whenever I need it," he answered. He reached for her other hand, thumbed his finger across her palm.

"That friend wouldn't happen to be the driver with the glasses would it? Tightly wound? A little…paranoid?"

Her description of Finch was spot on, he thought. She was quite perceptive. "Maybe."

"How'd you two meet? How long have you known each other?"

 _An interrogator through and through_ , he thought. She couldn't turn off that part of her if she tried. "Let's just say, he bailed me out of a tight situation before, and I've been doing what I can to help him out ever since." She seemed semi-satisfied with his answer and didn't probe further. "I called your room earlier."

She grinned, and her face lit up. His desire to kiss her came back, started to positively overwhelm him. "You did? Okay, what would you have done if I'd answered?"

"I would have asked you if you remembered who I was, and if you wanted to meet me for a drink."

"If I remembered who you were?" She shook her head as she walked over to the bar. She reached for an already opened bottle of Bourbon and poured a little into two tumblers. He followed her, watched her move and the way her fingers handled the glasses.

 _How soft would those fingers be as they moved over my skin?_ he wondered. _Would they feel like silk, or like the soft plumes of a feather?_

He pictured her nails digging into his back, moving over his scalp as he kissed her hard. He swallowed.

"I came here looking for you," she said.

"Remember when I told you months ago that you should stop looking for me?"

"How could I forget?"

She couldn't have, and neither could he. She'd been like a dog with a bone after they'd first met. Always staying just a step or two behind him. At first he'd been annoyed despite knowing that she was a good cop. But after a while, he'd gotten accustomed to finding her hot on his trail.

Her voice over the walkie talkie that day in front of the courthouse had been too much to resist. He'd raised the unit to his mouth a few times, so tempted to respond. His restraint broke eventually, and he answered, suggested she give up. Of course, for her, that wasn't an option. "I'm glad you didn't"

Their eyes held over the rim of his glass. "I'm glad I didn't too."

The errant curl moved over her cheek again, and he walked toward her to sweep it off her face. She turned her face towards his hand, let her mouth slightly graze his knuckles, and he felt the blood rush to his cock with lightning speed. He set his glass down on the bar, took hers away and led her to the seating area.

The suite was quiet. The hum of the air conditioner provided the only noise to their moment. He took her hand and moved with her while she stood in his arms. Her hands settled over his shoulders while he held her about the waist. He couldn't help but think how perfectly they fit together. Like a hand slipping into a warm, snug glove.

"So what if I'd agreed to meet up, but instead I had Donnelly and his whole task force waiting for you?"

He admitted to himself that that was a possibility if he came here. He knew the consequences of letting his guard down. It could lead to incarceration. It could lead to his death depending on how the circumstances. He had weighed all of the possibilities and felt he still needed to take that chance.

He cocked his head to the side. "You're worth the risk."

His words set the butterflies loose in her stomach and she quivered between her legs. Damn, he knew all the right words to say. "You like to take risks," she said, realizing that they were swaying. No music was playing in the room, but their bodies were moving to a rhythm all their own.

"So do you."

Her heart was racing. His gaze was constant. He wouldn't take his eyes off her, not for more than a few seconds. She could see him mentally undressing her, thinking about every sensual thing he wanted to do to her, and she liked it.

She wanted to slow things down, she wanted to preserve this moment. He was right when they were in the bar earlier. This - whatever this was between them - it didn't happen often, and she wanted to prolong every second of it for as long as she could.

"You know, sooner or later…" her voice trailed off, but she didn't break his gaze.

"Sooner or later, what?"

She felt blood rushing to her cheeks again. "You are wearing the _hell_ out of that suit."

He made a noise deep in his throat. It was gravelly, low. But his smile let her know that he liked the compliment. "That wasn't what you were going to say."

She leaned her head against his chest, felt his hands move up and down her back. She closed her eyes. He was filling up all of her senses in such an intoxicating way; she just couldn't get over it.

She thought about how talkative he was in the car trunk. He must have been nervous at the time, or just really relaxed. She'd learned that he was a man of few words. He conveyed what he needed to with brevity and didn't waste time with small talk. But in the trunk, it seemed the moment afforded him an opportunity to say what he'd been trying to hold back. She felt like he was being real with her now, too.

She felt his index finger lightly flick against her neck and back much the same way it had in the trunk.

 _What was he doing to her?_

"I saw you in Lyric Diner a few weeks ago," he murmured.

"Hmm…yes, and you waved at me."

"I wasn't sure you knew it was me. You were with a young boy, tall, about fourteen years old."

"Sixteen. My son, Taylor." He'd figured out her usual haunts. Probably knew she went there often to eat. "You followed me."

"Maybe, I did." He shrugged. "Maybe I didn't want to be the only one with a file of personal information."

She grinned. He wanted to level the playing field. That was understandable. She'd spent hours at a time staring at a board of information about him. Photos and video footage of sightings of the Man In A Suit. Wondering what his next move would be, where he'd turn up next. Wondering just who he was underneath this persona.

 _What had he seen?_ she wondered. _Did he know where she lived? Who her family was? Did he follow her home at night and watch her before she went to bed?_

"Where's his father?" he asked.

"He's in New Jersey," she replied, noting the questions that still lingered in his eyes.

"And you two are?"

"Done," she assured him. "For a long time, now."

Reese was relieved when she said that. Not that he should even hope that whatever this was could turn into something more, but it made him feel good knowing that she didn't belong to anyone else.

"After the ride together…after you and your partner dropped me off…I started to think. Started thinking what if we could take a time out."

"I thought the same thing," he said. "Like what if we could take a time out and just…get to know each other. Just spend some time together. I wanted that. So much."

She raised her head, and he was still looking at her. With him leaning in this close, their lips were just a fraction of an inch apart. Her fingers grazed his cheeks as he gently touched his mouth to hers. The touch triggered an electric current inside her, making her gasp. He didn't take more, but he didn't move away. Her eyes fluttered shut while he tenderly pressed his lips to her cheeks, her eyelids and forehead.

She made him feel eager, light, and different somehow. Reese had done and seen so many bad things in his lifetime. His time in the CIA had been a series of unforgivable acts that he felt would haunt him forever. But she made him feel like one day, maybe in the distant future, he just might be able to find absolution. He realized he was putting her on a pretty high pedestal but compared to her partner and a lot of other cops in her precinct, she was a beacon of light.

After months of mourning Jessica and being burned by the Agency, he'd been aimless. He'd pretty much given up on himself. He'd wanted out. Out of his misery and out of a world where he felt he didn't have anything else to offer anyone. But she'd changed his mind in an instant. She'd made him want to try again, live again, find a purpose. If that wasn't a miracle in and of itself, then he didn't know what it was.

He was different. He felt different, and he knew that newfound feeling of optimism had everything to do with her.

What if he'd never met her? What if he hadn't gotten into it with Antoine and his crew on that subway? He couldn't even remember where he was headed that night. What he did know was that her entrance into his sad little existence had been the catalyst for one of the biggest transformations he'd ever undergone.

He just had to find out…. _what if_?

The time for conversation was over. That one thing was clear to Carter as she moved her hands over Reese's broad shoulders. She could feel his cock roaring to life as he started to kiss her. Her stomach clenched as his tongue sought hers out, her breath started to quicken at the sweetness of his mouth. His fingers played along her back softly, while he pulled her close. His lips moved to the side of her mouth, her cheek, then down her neck.

She wanted his lips again and tilted his face towards hers to claim his mouth again. She stood on her toes, letting her fingers move over his scalp and opened herself up to the flood of sensation that was pulling her under. When their lips parted, he didn't let her go right away, and she was glad she wasn't the only eager one in the room. She slowly stepped out of his grasp, felt his hand slide across her stomach and walked towards the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Her turtleneck came off somewhere between the living room area and the bedroom door. She could hear his footsteps behind her as she rounded the bed. He watched her as she took out her earrings, and she saw him swallow hard. He wanted her badly. She could feel it. Feel it with every fiber of her being.

She put her earrings on the nightstand and watched him shrug out of his jacket. It fell to the floor at his feet and he smirked. She returned his smile, feeling like a kid again, like she was finally going all the way with the boy she'd been after for quite some time. She slowly undid the zipper of her skirt and then slipped out of her boots.

Together they watched each other peel back layers of clothing and accessories, and soon they faced each other on opposite sides of the bed. She let her eyes roam over his body, taking in each every inch of his broad shoulders, toned arms and legs. Her gaze skimmed over the hardness of his chest and the softness of his belly. He was just about everything she'd expected him to be and more.

His eyebrow shot up, and a lazy smile crossed his lips as she freed her hair from its ponytail. Without further preamble, she slipped out and her bra and panties and walked over to him. She craned her neck to look up at him with anticipation in her eyes. His lips softly touched hers as her fingers slid under the waistband of his boxer briefs. She impatiently pulled at them till they pooled around his ankles. He grinned as he stepped out of them and kicked them a short distance away.

He bent his head to kiss her lips for the briefest of moments before breaking the sweet contact.

 _Such a tease_ , she thought. "Are you nervous?" She smiled against his lips.

"No," he replied and nipped at her bottom lip. Her eyes flickered close as his mouth descended on hers. "I've waited a long time for this."

Her breathy moan turned into a soft squeal as he lifted her into his arms. Her legs went about his waist, and he gently rocked her up and down against the hardness of his erection. Her stomach fluttered as it rubbed alongside her clit. The sensation splintered through her, and she shivered involuntarily.

Already drunk from his kisses, she absently realized that he was slowly walking them over to the bed, and soon her back hit the sheets. He hovered above her for a moment; let his gaze travel the length of her body. It had been a while since she'd been this intimate with someone, and while she guessed she should feel some measure of anxiety about how things would turn out in the end, she felt none.

His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, down her chest, until it rested over her taut nipple. She arched into him as he increased the pressure and rolled the hardened bud along his tongue.

Her fingers moved through his scalp as he moved to her other waiting breast to give it the same attention. His hands felt like they were moving everywhere; over her rib cage, her stomach and hips. He was doing a good job of kindling an intense flame within her. His warm tongue slid just underneath her navel, and she gasped. She was shocked at how quickly she was responding to him and how strongly. Her hands moved over his back, his thighs, over as much of his skin as she could reach. She felt like she couldn't pull him close enough no matter what she did.

Reese told himself to slow down. He'd intended to take his time if they'd ever reached this moment together, but now, the feel of her underneath him was throwing his carefully laid plans out the door.

She'd undressed in front of him, and beneath her skirt and sweater was a soft, sexy, and desirable woman. Her skin was like the colour of the sun during the golden hour; glowing, radiant, and smooth. Her nipples were firm and puckered, waiting for his lips to touch them. Her slim waist filled out to rounded hips and toned thighs, and all he could picture was her legs around his back while he buried himself deep within her.

Now, underneath him, she was a temptress. Her lips moving over his shoulder, teeth biting his chest and her fingers grabbing at him were turning him on in the most delicious way. He told himself to hold back, for just a little bit longer, but she was writing beneath him, entreating him with soft pleas in the form of moans and light touches. He looked into her eyes and saw impatience in those copper brown depths.

"John, please."

He dove into her swiftly, giving her what she wanted. Her gasp upon his entry landed on his cheek. She was soft inside and warm. Like a rose that had opened her petals up just for him. He reveled in her softness, lying still inside her while she adjusted to the feel of him. But he craved the friction of movement and so he started to stroke her deeply.

They moved together, taking and giving, biting and pulling, climbing the peaks of ecstasy and tumbling down again. Their second time took place in the living room area overlooking the New York skyline. The soft rapid snowfall seemed to mirror their coupling, because this time he did what he'd set out to do; he took his time and learned what turned her on by exploring every inch of her body with precision and care.

Her sensitive spot was at her lower back, and he enjoyed pressing his lips there and watching her squirm. He took her from behind, twining his fingers with hers and pressing himself into her soft depths. It didn't take her long to come, and soon he followed, feeling spent, but satisfied. For the moment at least.

He grabbed a covering off the bed and wrapped them both in it as they lay on the couch together. With her snuggled against his chest, he rested his chin of her shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, nudging her shoulder.

She tilted her head to look up at him for a second and gave it a slight shake. "Nothing."

"Tell me," he coaxed.

"I don't want to think. I just want to be here with you and enjoy the moment."

He understood all too well. The night was wearing on, and soon day would come and bring with it everything they'd been keeping at bay during these precious moments.

"Wanna know what I'm thinking about, then?"

"Tell me."

He wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her closer. "I was thinking how good we are together. I mean, tonight has just been…amazing."

"We were good together, weren't we?" she thought. He realized though, that she thought he was talking about their lovemaking. That in itself was better than he could have dreamed, but he was talking about them, their connection, and what had drawn them together.

"Joss, if things had been different, if we were different, and had met at a different time or place-"

Carter turned in his arms, noting the inflection of his tone and how it'd changed. "You mean if we hadn't met under the circumstances that we did?"

"Yes," he answered, putting a hand on her cheek. "Do you think you'd have been open to this? To us?"

"Yes. I would."

"I think that you are so beautiful. You're one of the most beautiful persons that I've ever met."

She moved up to kiss him, and he ran his fingers through the hair at her nape. He claimed her mouth fiercely, much the same way he'd practically branded her when they'd made love. He'd wanted to stake his claim, leave his mark, and burn the memory of himself into her mind and heart so deep that she'd never forget him. He cupped her face in both hands, pulling her closer, angling his head so he could make his kiss even deeper.

Her lips parted as his tongue sought entry. Sought out her own and proceeded to tease it in a way that caused her stomach to quiver.

She felt alive, filled with desire, and when he took her again, their actions said what their mouths could not. When he kissed her neck she knew that he'd always be there. When he slid his hands between her legs and let his finger slip between her moist folds, she knew that he was telling her that she belonged to him. When he finally slipped his cock inside her and held her gaze with every deep and languid stroke, he was telling her that he belonged to her too.

"Come away with me," he murmured some time later after they'd returned to the bedroom and lay underneath the covers. She smiled sleepily at his proposal. She looked through the window facing the bed and noticed that the snow had finally stopped falling. It seemed fitting that the storm around them had ceased and had left nothing but the quiet of the night behind.

"Where will you take me?" she asked.

"Wherever you want to go. I'll spare no expense. Nothing would be off limits. We leave everything behind, and it'll be just the two of us, Joss."

"I'd love to, John," she answered. His arms around her grew tighter and he softly kissed her bare shoulder. "I'd love to."

She drifted off to sleep then, a slumber so deep that when her eyes finally opened, it was because her cell phone was ringing. The shrill came from the nightstand right next to her, and she reached out to pick it up.

"Carter."

"Good morning, detective. Miss me?"

She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, not wanting to look at the empty side of the bed next to her. He was already gone, and she hadn't heard him leave.

"You know I do," she answered.

"I'm sorry that you had to wake up alone, but rest assured I kissed you goodbye before I left."

"I supposed that makes up for your quick getaway," she said and turned on her back. "Where are you?"

"Will you forgive me if I don't tell you?"

Tears stung her eyes. They were on opposite sides of the law again. She wasn't Joss anymore, and he wasn't John. She was the detective trying to arrest him, and he was once again the Man In a Suit.

"I think I can manage."

"Good."

"Is that a sigh of relief I hear?" she joked. He was about to hang up, but she wasn't yet ready for him to go.

"You bet your ass it is."

A few moments of silence passed between them, both remembering the previous night. Both wished it could have gone on forever. Both of them knowing they'd never forget it.

"Listen, Joss. I have to go."

"I know."

"You do know that you're not alone, don't you?"

His voice cracked, and she was touched by the emotion in it. She couldn't stop the tears that slid down the side of her face. "I know, John."

"See you around, Joss."

The deathly silence that followed the end of the call filled her with regret, but she was comforted knowing that even though they were separated by so much, he was still on her side.


End file.
